a random tumble of Molstrade
by scribblingnellie
Summary: Based on tumblr prompts, these are quickly written and posted fics featuring my two faves - Greg Lestrade and Molly Hooper - being wonderful and in love! Many thanks for reading.
1. speechless

**speechless**

'Hey there, I got your text…' Pushing the lab door open, Greg stopped short. '…oh sorry, I thought you were Molly'

And the young woman standing at the table with her back to him, slowly turned, a smile spreading across her face.

'Oh.'

Wow. She looked… different.

Greg, his hand pointing to his hair in a sort of dumbfounded gesture, found himself staring, unable to take his eyes from her. The beautiful long chestnut ponytail was gone, the hair he'd rather hoped to one day to run his fingers through, to see it cascade over her bare shoulders…

_Focus_

But this, this was… rather sexy.

'Hi there yourself.' Molly grinned, her eyes twinkling at the obvious effect that her new hair was having on him. 'How are you?'

'Um… I'm…good… yeah.'

Cut short at the back, it tapered along her neck, showing the rather sensuous curve down to her shoulder that was hidden beneath her lab coat. Moving forward, it gained length, almost covering her ears. And the front softly tapered down her face, strands gently resting against her cheeks. Touching her face softly, the new cut brought out the little auburn glints in her hair, making her eyes an even more gorgeous brown.

'That's good to hear, Greg.'

'Hmm… sorry?'

_Concentrate. Get it together._

Grinning, Molly bit her lip, as though she was trying hard not to giggle. Greg was mortified. Completely embarrassing. He felt himself slowly cringing inside, his heart thumping against his chest at the sight of her. Having the decency to blush, he dropped his gaze, staring at the freshly scrubbed lino floor.

'Shit, I am so sorry, Molly. That was really… I…'

And into his vision came her sensible lace ups and brown cord trousers, her white lab coat swinging gently. A soft finger under his chin and he lifted his eyes slightly, level with hers.

'I'm flattered. No one's ever been speechless at the sight of me.'

'You are? Uh… flattered, I mean.'

Nodding, she left her hand run along his cheek and rest against his temple. Greg closed his eyes at the warm feel of her fingers rubbing his skin. Standing so close, he was convinced Molly could hear the fast thudding of his heart.

'Very flattered.'

'You do look wonderful.' Allowing himself to reach a hand up nervously to the strands hanging over her cheeks, taking them tenderly between his fingers. 'Very lovely.'

'Thank you.'

_Ask her_

Deep breath. 'Molly, would you like… would you like to have dinner with me?'

Her eyes shone and she smiled, again biting her bottom lip. Oh, that was very sexy. Greg let his fingers drift from her cheek to her lips.

'I would love to.'

And taking his hand, Molly placed the softest of almost kisses on his fingers. Greg was pretty sure his heart had just jumped its way out of his chest.

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><p><strong>Written v. quickly for an anonymous tumblr prompt - <em>How about Greg taking a particular interest in Molly's new haircut? <em> Minimal editing so please do excuse any mistakes! Many thanks for reading.**


	2. birds and bees

**birds and bees**

Closing the door softly behind him, Greg took a few careful, deep breaths. Molly was asleep now. He hated to see her upset; she could cope with illness, but morning sickness left her wrung out. The throwing up was just like it had been before; frequent and debilitating.

'Dad?'

A small hand grabbed his shirt, breaking into his thoughts. Feeling Anna pressing herself against his side, Greg smiled, the surge of affection for their daughter tugging at his heart. Kneeling down, he wrapped his arms around her, placing a long, loud kiss on the top of her head.

'What is it sweetie?'

Anna looked warily around him at the closed bedroom door. 'Was Mum sick again?'

'Yes, she was.'

Smoothing back her short chocolate brown hair, he studied her face. She looked worried, but also a tiny bit curious.

'Why? She was sick yesterday before you took me to school and she's sick now too.'

'Well…' And Greg paused.

Should he tell her now? Him and Molly had planned to tell Anna together; they hoped she would be excited by the news. Whenever John and Mary brought Harriet and George round to play, Anna was quite enraptured – two of them was a novelty to her as an only child. She'd even asked if Mum and Dad could get another baby to have around.

'Well, what?'

Knees protesting, Greg leaned back and plonked himself onto the floor. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he gathered Anna to him, arms tight around her.

'Well. You know how Uncle John and Aunty Mary have Harriet and George and you asked…'

Suddenly bouncing on his lap, Anna threw her arms around his neck. 'Are you going to get another baby?!'

He couldn't stop himself from grinning back as his daughter hugged him tightly. 'Yes, sweetie. Though it'll be Mum who'll be having the baby. When she's feeling better, she can tell you how.'

Pulling away from him, Anna shook her head. 'Oh, I know how you get a baby.'

'Do you?' Greg didn't remember having _that_ conversation with his daughter.

Anna nodded her head, quite assuredly. 'Of course. Everyone knows, silly. The baby grows in Mum's tummy for… a while and then she has to push it out. That's what Harriet told me. She said her Dad told her how it all happens 'cause she got to watch George being born and she said it was cool.' Quickly turning her head back to face him, Anna opened her eyes wider at her sudden thought. 'Can I watch the new baby being born? Please?'

Her energy was infectious and Greg found himself grinning. There was never a day when his daughter didn't amaze and surprise him. He'd always thought he wouldn't have children, not after his divorce. But when Molly asked him if he would like to try for children, he was pretty sure he'd hugged most of the air out of her.

'I don't see why not. Though, we should probably ask Mum if she'd be ok with it.'

'Yeah, we probably should. Harriet said her Mum screamed and swore a bit when George was coming out and Mum might not want me to hear swear words. Though, Uncle Sherlock says that you know quite a few good ones.'

'Does he?' Greg made a mental note to have a word with _Uncle_ Sherlock.

'Would you teach me them?' Anna looked so keen to learn.

'Maybe one day, when you're a lot older, Anna.' He brushed her hair off her face and tapped her nose. 'Just don't tell your Mum.'

'Cool.' And holding up her crossed fingers, she nodded. 'Promise.'

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><p><strong>Written quickly for anonymous tumblr prompt - <em>Greg has to explain to his little daughter while mummy is feeling sick lately. <em>I've not written Greg and Molly with children before, so something new for me. I've made Anna about 5-6 years old. Many thanks for reading.**


	3. dark locks and leathers

**dark locks and leathers**

Still no message. Molly stared down at her phone. It was definitely odd that he hadn't texted her in the past week; even if only to let her know that he was busy with work and would have to miss their regular Thursday night at the pub.

Sighing, she locked the screen and plopped her phone back into her bag. Hoisting it further up onto her shoulder, Molly let herself into 221B. The key had been John's idea; the more people who could keep an eye on Sherlock, the better.

As she shut the front door behind her, seeing the darkness behind Mrs Hudson's door, Molly started up the stairs; the shouting coming from his flat had probably driven his landlady next door again.

The sudden loud crash made her jump as she rounded the bend in the staircase.

'I said no, Sherlock. Are you deaf as well as stupid?! You are not bringing Molly into this.'

The low, rough voice made her heart stop. Greg? Now that didn't make sense. Why was he in London and ignoring her? And what was it that they weren't bringing her into? Mounting the final two steps, she pulled up suddenly at the open door into Sherlock's flat.

Oh, wow.

Ok, well, it was him, but it wasn't.

Molly stared, transfixed. He looked completely different… but still very much Greg. Dressed head to toe in bike leathers, she found her eyes following them as they hugged his thighs and the curve of his backside. Fit as well as handsome then.

But what really threw her was his hair. She'd only ever known him with his gorgeous silver hair; even when he'd first walked into her lab and gave her that disarming boyish smile of his, his hair been more silver than brown. She liked it, kind of charming and handsome.

But… bloody hell. Molly took a deep breath. Now his lovely locks were a deep, dark brown all over. And as much as she adored his silver hair, this colour was very sexy on him. Very.

With his eyes fixed angrily on Sherlock, Greg hadn't seen her yet; none of the men in the room had. John stood rigid by the fireplace, head in his hand, Mycroft sitting loftily in Sherlock's usual chair. And Sherlock, violin in hand, stared straight back at Greg across the other side of John's chair. Tension cracked between all of them; she'd obviously had walked in on something she shouldn't have.

Figuring she ought to let them know she was there, Molly cleared her throat as she leaned against the doorframe. Suddenly four pairs of eyes turned on her. Squirming slightly, she straightened and took a hesitant step into the room.

'You, um… you asked me to come over, Sherlock. Said it was urgent.'

Addressing her words to Sherlock, Molly found her eyes drifting back to Greg. He'd turned to face her, his arms dropping by his sides, his eyes… she wasn't sure what she was seeing in his eyes. Worry? Concern?

Throwing Greg a haughty look, Sherlock placed his violin down on the chair and walked over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders when he reached her.

Ok… Molly looked askew at him. Now she was definitely unsettled by events. Sherlock never put his arm around her.

'What is going on?' She looked from Greg to John to Mycroft to Sherlock. 'One of you tell me or I shall have to start using my imagination.'

A small laugh escaped Greg's lips and she snapped her eyes back to him. His head bent down, she saw his eyes quickly flick up at her, a tiny grin crossing his face. The butterflies dashed about inside her chest; Molly felt her heart stop and start a couple of times.

'Well, Sherlock?' Mycroft's imperious tone floated across the room.

Before he could say anything, Greg was suddenly striding across the room, bike helmet in one hand. He stopped an inch away from Sherlock, their faces almost touching. The younger Holmes stood gawping like a bewildered fish.

'Don't bother, Sherlock. Game's over.' Throwing a glare over his shoulder at the elder Holmes. 'I did what you and your brother asked. It's done, ok? Finished.'

What the hell was going on? Standing so near to Greg, hearing the old, worn leathers creak was confusing her. Too much going on, too many new sensations at the sight of him. Shaking her head, trying to clear the image of her snogging the life out of Greg in those leathers, Molly turned to Sherlock.

'Listen, whatever is going on, you can at least tell me why I dragged myself across London when I'd much rather be at home with a bottle of red and my feet up. Sherlock?' But he avoided her eyes. 'Fine, whatever. I'm going home. I'm too tired for this.'

Turning, her eyes giving Greg one last admiring look, she headed out the door and down the stairs. None the wiser about why she'd been summoned to Baker Street, Molly found her annoyance, her anger, her desire, her confusion all crashing around inside her head. She knew she'd have one hell of a headache by the time she made it home.

Stopping at the bottom of the stair case, her hand on the door knob, she drew in a long, slow breath. The sound of careful footsteps behind her and Molly turned, ready to give Sherlock a piece of her mind.

The words froze on her lips. Stood before her, Greg smiled shyly. His open leather jacket revealed a tight black tee shirt that skimmed over his chest. Molly knew she was staring but she couldn't stop. Finally seeing him in something other than those work suits was quite a lot to take in; not that she didn't like his new look.

And his hair.

Two slow steps towards her and Molly found herself closer to him then she'd ever been. Seeing his chest rising and falling, she was unable to stop her hand placing itself over his heart.

'Greg.' It came out as a whisper. 'What is going on?'

The warm hand on her cheek made her look up at him. And then she saw it – a thin red scar down his right cheek, half hidden by his scruffy stubble; two days old at the most going by the lack of healing.

'Oh, Greg, what happened, are you…'

'Shh.' Covering her hand with his as she reached out to touch the scar. 'A scratch. I'm fine. Listen, can I take you home? The bike's out front. I've a spare helmet.'

His bike? Molly stared, a little dumbfounded. He actually owned a motorbike and she never knew? That was…

And she suddenly realised that she had a thing for gorgeous older men in leathers on motorbikes. A thing she didn't even know she had until right then.

Squeezing her hand tightly, Greg leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her forehead. 'Let me get you home, open that bottle of red and I'll explain.'

'Everything?' Molly looked at his hand wrapped around hers. He must have been able to hear her heart thudding against her chest; she could definitely hear his.

'Everything.' And he backed up his promise with a soft kiss, his lips gentle against hers.

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><p><strong>Written quickly for tumblr prompt from kalemustang - <em>Since we did one with Molly's new haircut, how about the reverse with one for a Greg based off of Rupert's hair for Sacrifice? <em> As I wrote it, the fic got a bit away from me and took on a life of its own! It's a bit longer than the others and I'm given it a brief couple of edits. Many thanks for reading! **


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